The Friend Ship
by Flagg1991
Summary: New girl in town Gabby Clone is nervous about her first day of school, but finds a friend in a little girl with big glasses and an even bigger mind. Oneshot, Christmas present for Gabeclone.


**Last year, Gabeclone (author of** _ **Mirror More Familia Amore, Here's More Amore**_ **, an amazing story that you should read ASAP if you're into Loudcest) approached me asking if I had a story request I would like him to write me as a Christmas present. I did, and I wrote a request of his (** _ **Lincoln's Pet**_ **). This year, we're exchanging gifts again, only this time around, his request was a** _ **liiiiittle**_ **different. He said he wanted to see whether I could do it or not, but I honestly think he was trolling. Either way, here it is, Merry Christmas, Gabe. I have a few more present stories set for publication before the big day, so stay tuned, everyone.**

 **Now, sigh, on with the story ;)**

* * *

On the morning of September 5, Gabeclone, a short, middle aged bald man with glasses and dressed in a gray wool sweater, saw his daughter Gabby off on her first day of school at Royal County Elementary. He and Gabby moved from Detroit in June and Gabe was worried that she would not adjust well to her new school. After all, she was a _little_ different.

Descending the stairs from the second floor, he crossed through the ashen living room, went into the kitchen, and stepped out onto the back deck. "Hi, honey," he greeted. "You ready?"

Gabby sighed from her slip. "I guess."

A 45,000 ton Iowa class battleship with a pink bow on her conning tower, Gabby loomed over the dock like a modern day colossus: 887 feet long, 108 feet across, and painted flat gray with massive cannons jutting over her port and starboard sides and eyes and a mouth on her prow, she was far bigger than her mother and twice as beautiful.

Emotion welled in Gabe's throat as he remembered his late wife - sunk off the coast of Greece after hitting a reef. He missed her everyday but found succor in raising their daughter.

He went over and laid his hand flat on her hull. "Cheer up, honey, you'll do great."

Gabby drew a deep breath through her exhaust ports. "I'm really nervous. The other kids might make fun of me." There was a note of apprehension in her voice that saddened Gabe. When she first started at Martin Luther King Jr. Elementary in Detroit, her classmates picked on her mercilessly for her appearance. After a while, her natural beauty and kindness showed through, however, and she made many friends. Gabe hated himself for having to uproot her, but Detroit was no place to raise a family these days; it was crime-ridden and falling apart to the point that it wasn't even safe to walk the streets at night. It was better here, and cheaper too: The dock rent in the city was outrageous. Royal Woods was also perfect in one key way: It was built along the rim of Lake Royal, meaning Gabby could get around easier than she could in Detroit.

"Just be yourself and everyone will see what a wonderful girl you are," Gabe said encouragingly.

"I hope," Gabby said anxiously.

At 7'o clock, she started her massive turbine engines, and the water swirled and eddied as her propellers began to spin. Thick black smoke belched from her single funnel in a choking cloud, and she blew her whistle. She darted an uncertain glance at her father and nervously chewed her bottom lip. "Just be yourself," Gabe repeated.

That was easy for him to say. He wasn't a 209 foot tall battleship and it wasn't _him_ starting a new school and meeting new people...people who might call her mean names and make her eat her lunch by herself.

Gabe unhooked her tow line, and she pulled away from the dock. "I love you," he said.

"Love you too, Dad."

Gabby spun her wheel to starboard and started across the sun-dappled lake, her heart racing faster as she approached the marina on the other side. Boats parked in slips bobbed in the swell, and gulls soared overhead. She wished she was one of them, free and high above it all without a care in the world. Birds don't have to worry themselves sick that they won't fit in, or that the other birds will point at laugh at them because they're different. From the moment Dad told her they were moving, dread seethed in her depths like sludge. During the summer, she wished the day would hurry up and come so she could get it over with, but now that it was here, she was filled with terror. Maybe she should turn back and tell Dad she was sick.

The only thing that stopped her from swinging around and steaming home was the knowledge that she couldn't hide forever. Sooner or later, she would have to face the music.

Steeling her resolve, she sailed into the berth marked 68. Her teacher stood in front of a blackboard on wheels and faced a row of desks. Because of Gabby's extreme height and weight, Royal Woods Elementary was compelled to move its first grade class to accommodate her, lest Dad file a discrimination suit. A few of the desks were occupied, and as Gabby docked, the children twisted around to look up at her with wide-eyed wonder...wide-eyed wonder that turned to shock when they saw that she was no _ordinary_ ship.

The teacher, a tall woman with long black hair and dressed in a sweater and slacks, smiled. "Good morning," she said cherrily, "you must be Gabby."

 _Is it that obvious?_

"Yeah," Gabby stammered, "t-that's me."

A low, excited murmur ran through the class, and all of the other kids openly gaped in amazement and horror.

"We're waiting for one more student," the teacher said, "then we can be - oh, there she is now."

Gabby looked up to see a little girl in brown pants and a baggy green sweater hurrying down the pier, the wind blowing through her messy chestnut hair and the sunlight glinting off the lens of her glasses. The corners of her lips were turned down in a perturbed frown and her hands were balled at her side in angry fists. She looked mad, and Gabby felt a rush of trepidation. "Good morning, Lisa," the teacher said.

"There's nothing good about this morning," Lisa grumbled, "getting here was highly inconvenient. I still don't know why you transferred -" her eyes met Gabby's, and Gabby flashed a wan smile. "Dear God!" Lisa cried and jumped back. "Is that a sentient Iowa class battleship?"

The hull around Gabby's face burned with shame and she lowered her eyes.

"Please take your seat, Lisa," the teacher said.

Lisa stared at Gabby with awe, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide as manhole covers. Gabby could feel her gaze on her, and the blush spread to the rest of her hull. "Of all the unconventional things I've ever seen in my short life, this is by far the most uncanny," Lisa said. Never taking her eyes off of Gabby, she shuffled to an empty desk next to her and sat.

"As you can tell," the teacher started after a moment, "we have a new student." She held her hands together as though she were praying, then spread them apart. Everyone looked at Gabby, and she shuddered under their scrutiny. "This is Gabby. Why don't you tell the class a little bit about yourself, Gabby?"

Gabby's blush deepened and her heartbeat sped up. "Well, uh, I like to sing, and dance, and, um, color -"

"What is your top speed?" Lisa cut in.

"Lisa," the teacher admonished.

"Uh...38 knots."

"That much?" Lisa asked, impressed. "Beam?"

Gabby shifted awkwardly. "108 feet."

"What about your battery?" Lisa insisted and leaned interestedly forward, her eyes widening. "Those look like 16 in 50 caliber Mark 7 guns, but I'm not sure, I've only seen them in photographs."

"Uh...they are."

"Range?" Lisa's face glowed with excitement.

"20 miles."

The teacher frowned and cut Lisa off mid-question. "Alright, Lisa, you may speak to Gabby during lunch if you would like, but right now we need to get on with the lesson."

Gabby sighed in relief. She did not like to draw attention to herself and Lisa's questions were starting to make her uncomfortable.

All during the morning, Gabby tried to concentrate on the teacher, but was painfully aware of Lisa openly watching her, a giddy smile etched across her face. When they broke for lunch, a longshoreman came over and hooked a hose into Gabby's fuel intake valve. Lisa took a lunchbox from her desk, got up, and, to Gabby's chagrin, came over, dropping onto the edge of the dock, her tiny feet dangling above the swell. Gaby warily regarded the girl from the corner of her eye.

Opening her lunch box, Lisa took out a sandwich. "I'm absolutely brimming with questions. Do you mind if I pose them to you?"

Yes, actually, she did. She didn't like being treated like a freak in a zoo exhibit anymore than she liked being made fun of. So what if she was a living battleship? She had feelings just like everyone else, and when people acted like she was some kid of outsider, they got hurt. She didn't want to be rude, though. "I really don't want to talk," Gabby said lowly.

"Why not?" Lisa asked and took a bite of her sandwich. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I've just never met...someone like you." There was a slight, uncertain hesitation as Lisa chose her words. _Someone like you..._ maybe that wasn't meant as an insult or accusation, but it felt like one anyway.

"I just don't like to," Gabby said heavily.

Lisa chewed her food thoughtfully. "Very well, then." She paused, then: "How long have you resided in Royal Woods? I assume you're a recent arrival."

For a moment, Gabby was knocked off balance. She expected Lisa to get up and leave when she realized she wasn't going to answer her battleship related questions. Many people had done the same - if she said she wouldn't talk about it, they left because, she assumed, she had no worth or value beyond her status as a nautical war machine. "Uh...me and my Dad moved here in June," she said guardedly.

"Is your father…?" Lisa started but stopped herself. "Nevermind." Genuine remorse flickered like a shadow across her face.

"No," Gabby replied, "he's a normal person. My...my mom was the battleship." The word _mom_ came hard and hurt deeply. Gabby was two when her mother was deployed to the Mediterranean for routine navy exercises and never came back.

Lisa brow softened in sympathy and she bowed her head, reproofed. "I'm sorry," she said. "Again, I apologize. I'm not very good with interpersonal communication or with adhering to social customs or protocol, thus I often come across in ways that I don't mean. My higher than average IQ precludes me from having a normal relationship with my peers, and sometimes that sense of isolation renders me unable to engage with _anyone_."

Gabby couldn't help but note the abject and earnest quality of her voice. Lisa was not lying or trying to put her at ease by making exaggerations; she really did feel isolated from everyone else. Just like Gabby herself.

"I kind of feel the same way," Gabby admitted, then hastened to add, "like, I can't have a normal relationship with other kids. I mean look at me." She uttered a sharp, humorless laugh. "My dad says I'm a little different, but that's…" she trailed off and tried to think of the right word.

"Understatement?" Lisa supplied.

"Yeah. I'm more than a little different."

Lisa nodded. "I understand. I, myself, am quite different from the others. I tell myself that that is a good thing and makes me better than they are, but, in actuality, I'm simply consoling myself by believing in my own superiority. Everyone needs something to hang onto, and for me, it's that. Being different is a lonely proposition, and I'd rather have my ego for company than nothing at all." She flushed, and Gabby got the impression that the little girl didn't mean to reveal so much about herself.

"Being different _is_ lonely," Gabby agreed. She knew that first hand.

The teacher called out that lunch was over, and Lisa returned the rest of her sandwich to her lunch box, then snapped the lid closed. "I guess that's it," she said and stood. She rubbed the back of her neck in awkward discomfort. "I enjoyed talking to you. Perhaps we can do it again sometime?" The final seven words came out with a hopeful inflection, and Gabby smiled to herself.

"Sure. That sounds like fun."

The rest of the day passed at a crawl. At one point, the teacher teamed the class up in pairs of two for a "special project." Lisa scooted her desk closer to Gabby and took out a notebook. "I suspect she'll request us to draw or write someone pertaining to the topic of how we spent our summer vacation," Lisa said.

"Alright, boys and girls," the teacher said, "I want each of you to draw me a picture of what you did over summer break."

Gabby's jaw dropped. "How did you know?" she asked in astonishment.

"I have my ways," Lisa said smugly. "Most teachers assign such a task as busy work on the first day, I simply anticipated her next move by thinking ahead." She craned her neck to look up at Gabby and bunched her lips quizzically to one side. "Are you able to hold a writing implement?"

"Yep," Gabby said. She strained, and a large crane on her deck swung out over the side, dropping a rope with a pincher on the end.

"Amazing," Lisa breathed, and Gabby felt a rush of pride.

They worked separately on their drawings and talked as they did so. Lisa, Gabby learned, had a very large family including ten siblings and four pets. "My domicile resembles an orphanage," Lisa grumbled without looking up from her art. "And a loosely structured one at that. My mother and father's liberal approach to parenting has lead to general lawlessness such as my sister Luan pulling mean-spirited and potentially dangerous pranks on us. I don't believe in God, but the Bible is a font of wisdom, and my favorite verse is Proverbs 13:24. _Whoever spares the rod hates their children, but the one who loves their children is careful to discipline them._ It is often misquoted as _spare the rod, spoil the child_."

"Wow," was all Gabby could think to say. "I kind of wish I had a brother or sister. It gets kind of lonely at myself with just my dad."

"You're free to borrow one of mine whenever you see fit," Lisa said, "and please...don't rush to return them."

Gabby giggled at Lisa's deadpan delivery. "Come on, they can't be _that_ bad," she insisted. She looked at her drawing and hummed. It was done, but seemed to be missing something...like ice cream without sprinkles.

"You have no idea," Lisa said. She plastered the tip of her tongue to her upper lip in determination as she worked a particularly difficult angle. Gabby leaned over as best she could, curious to see what the little girl was drawing, but Lisa's head blocked her. "My brother is an anxious wreck who believes he's a burden to our family - and therefore makes himself a bursen with his constant self-deprecation and bellyaching - my sister Luna plays her guitar at all hours of the day and night (and not very well, I might add); my sister Luan is a sociopath who derives enjoyment from the pain and suffering of others; my sister Lana is filthy; Lola is a stuck up snob; Lori is a tyrannical bitch on wheels; Leni is brain damaged; Lucy is a middle class suburban white girl who acts as though she has a reason to be constantly depressed; Lynn is a musclehead who's going to peak in high school and spend the rest of her life in a trailer park swearing to the other women that she could have gone pro; and Lily…" here she shivered. " The stench of Lilly's fecal matter has permanently soaked into the very walls of our shared bedroom. Even if you remove her completely, it will remain, festering, lingering, rotting the insides of my nasal cavities and steeping my brain."

Gabby blinked in surprise. Lisa was red faced and huffing now as though she were going to literally explode at any second. Taking a deep breath, she said, "I apologize for that. I'm perhaps being uncharitable in regards to my familial unit. The stress of living with so many clashing personalities, however, takes its toll on you after a while." She sat her pencil on the desk with a crisp clacking sound and turned to Gabby. "What's your father like?"

It took Gabby a moment to respond because her brain was still processing everything Lisa said. She always thought having siblings to play and hang out with would be _amazing,_ but from the looks of Lisa Loud, it was a living nightmare

Gabby's heart instantly went out to her.

"He's great," she said, "he reads a lot. And writes books."

"Indeed?" Lisa asked, an intelligent lift to her voice.

Gabby nodded. "Yeah. He does it for work."

"What's his name?"

"Gabeclone."

Lisa started. "Gabeclone? The author of _Deep Space 69?"_

"Yep," Gabby said, "that's him."

A big, quivering smile exploded across Lisa's face, and her tiny hands fisted to her chest in fannish delight. Her brown eyes, cold and cynical just moments before, danced with merry light, and she trembled slightly like a small, excited dog. "He's my third favorite hard science fiction writer after Arthur C. Clarke and Robert A. Heinlein. Is he really your father?"

"Yeah," Gabby said, "he's my Dad."

Lisa's squeal was so loud that Gabby winced. "That's amazing! I must meet him. Not today, though, I have to tutor Lynn after school." Her happy smile fell and the light in her eyes dimmed. "She's thirteen and can't make a passing grade without running to her four year old sister for help." Blowing a puff of air, she shook her head.

"Well...you're really smart though," Gabby said.

"I guess." She looked at the drawing in front of her and Gabby did the same. The sense of something being missing intensified and she frowned. "What's wrong?" Lisa asked.

"My picture. I feel like it's missing something."

"May I see it?" Lisa asked.

Gabby picked it up with the crane and sat it on Lisa's desk. It depicted her and her father standing side by side and smiling, their house in the background, green scribble serving as grass. Lisa stroked her chin in thought, then brightened and held up her index finger in a gesture bespeaking revelation, "I know." She picked up her pencil, bent, and started to draw something. Gabby leaned over and tried to see, but couldn't.

A moment later, Lisa sat up. "There," she said proudly.

Gabby reached out with her crane and picked it up.

In the top right corner, a cute, smiling sun with its tongue stuck out. "Not usually my style," Lisa said rubbed the back of her neck. "But it fits, I think."

"I love it," Gabby said. A warm, fuzzy sensation started in her boilers and spread through her engine room, up through her decks, and finally into her command bridge. Her bilge pump overflowed and tears welled in her eyes. "It's the most beautiful thing ever."

Lisa blushed. "I wouldn't say _that,_ " she said.

Shortly, the teacher collected their drawings and dismissed the class. The children got up, threw their backpacks on, and filed down the dock. Lisa stood and looked up at Gabby. "I had a very nice time today," she started haltingly. "I like you tremendously and, if you are willing.." she glanced anxiously down at her feet. "I'd like to pursue this friendship."

Gabby tingled all over in joy. "Me too."

Lisa looked up again and grinned. "Very well." She looked down the dock and sighed. "I better get started. I have to walk all the way around the lake to get home." She curled her fist in outage.

"Where do you live?" Gabby asked.

Lisa pointed across the water to the back of a house. "There. If I were a fish I'd be able to cut across, but sadly, I am not; I was cursed to be homo sapien."

"You only live a couple houses down from me," Gabby said with breathless exuberance. That meant she and Lisa could see each other often. "I can give you a ride."

Lisa's eyes widened. "Oh, no," she said and held up a forestalling hand, "I-I couldn't. We only just met and I'd hate to take advantage of you."

"It's no trouble at all," Gabby said. "You're my friend, aren't you?"

"Well, yes," Lisa said.

"Friends help friends," Gabby declared. She swung a rope ladder over her railing admistship. "Come on."

Lisa hesitated for a moment, then simpered. "Alright," she said, "I suppose." She went over to the ladder and climbed the rungs. On the deck, she looked around in slack-jawed superfication. "Wow," she marveled, "your turrets are massive."

"My bridge is really impressive," Gabby promised. She started her engines, and her propellers chopped the steely blue water, their reciprocating blades producing a rush of bubbling white foam. Lisa made her way toward the bow, looking left and right, agog like a bumpkin tourist in the big city.

With a blow of her whistle, Gabby pulled away from the dock and set a course for Lisa's house, the waves lapping at her prow and the wind blowing in her rigging. Lisa climbed a set of metal stirs and entered Gabby's control center, a virtual cornucopia of technology: Computers, sonar, radar, advanced navigational equipment, weather reading devices, blinking lights, flashing screens - her jaw dropped and she walked among it all in a daze. "This is absolutely mind blowing," she muttered.

"Figured you'd like it," Gabby said. "It's all state of the art. And as I grow, it will too."

Lisa crossed through the bridge and emerged onto the port wing deck. She laid her hands on the railing and stared ahead at the approaching shore. Cool wind rushed through her hair, and she closed her eyes and tilted her head in bliss, resembling a cat being scratched behind its ears.

A hundred feet from the dock bordering Lisa's backyard, Gabby swung to starboard and drifted in lengthwise. "Here you are," she said buoyantly.

"That was incredible," Lisa gushed. "It felt as though I were flying. T-This is beyond my powers of articulation to even _begin_ to express."

Gabby giggled musically. "Glad you liked it. I can pick you up tomorrow for school if you want."

"Yes, please!"

A girl in a pair of red shorts came out onto the back deck, saw Gabby, and started. "That's Lynn," Lisa said, then smiled evilly. "Can you hit her with a missile from here?"

Playing along, Gabby brought her massive turrets around and pointed them at Lynn. The girl's face drained of color and she let out a high, ear-piercing screech. She whipped around so fast she fell to her knees, jumped back up, and pulled frantically at the knob. "Watch this," Gabby snickered. A shrill alarm sounded, and a loud, booming male voice issued from her public address system. "5...4...3…"

Lynn howled in terror, ripped the door open, and threw herself across the threshold. Gabby and Lisa both burst into side splitting laughter. "That was delicious," Lisa said. "She was practically blubbering."

Brushing a tear from her eye, Lisa sighed in contentment. "Yes," she said, "I like you very much."

"I like you too."

When she was on the dock, Lisa looked up at Gabby. "I really must be going. Thank you for the ride."

"Don't mention it."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"You too."

Lisa spun on her heels and went to the back door. Before sailing off, Gabby caught a flash of Lynn's drawn face peeking through the curtain, eyes wide with fear. She felt kind of bad for scaring her, but, if it was any consolation to the jock, the turerts weren't loaded: Gabe removed all of the artillery from her hold long ago.

That night, Lisa sat at the dinner table and heartily ate her food. There was a rare lightness about her, and she smiled often. "Lynn," Mom said impatiently, "I doubt a 45,000 ton battleship pointed its cannons at you. Stop fibbing."

"But, Mom -"

"No buts, young lady. Finish your brussel sprouts."

Three houses over, Gabeclone sat on the edge of the shore retaining wall between his yard and the lake. "How was your day, sweetie?" he asked.

"Great," Gabby piped, "I made a new friend."

"You did? That's wonderful. See? All you have to do is be yourself."

"Yeah," she said, "you were right. I was worried over nothing."

Gabeclone smiled at his daughter. "I know you were. What's she like?"

Taking a deep breath, Gabby told him just how awesome her new friend Lisa Loud was.


End file.
